


A Wash Before Bed

by Lonewritersclub



Series: Warmer This Way [8]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Suicide Squad (2016)
Genre: Deadjokes, Fluff and Smut, Gentle, M/M, Sex, all is well, and coming together, in the showers again, kind, loving, soft, until...
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-29
Updated: 2018-12-29
Packaged: 2019-09-30 01:36:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17214563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lonewritersclub/pseuds/Lonewritersclub
Summary: It is mesmerizing to witness his one of a kind beauty and way of moving and breathing. It holds Floyd captive and ties his hand around that pure white neck in silent awe.





	A Wash Before Bed

Floyd has a nice apartment though it’s nothing big or fancy. It’s out on the outskirts of the city but not too far - just on the crook side of the neighbourhood as one might expect from him. It’s only a halfway house, he tells Joker when they get there but it looks like Floyd’s been staying there for longer than just a few months. Joker guesses he’s not welcome to his real home and simply got stuck in the middle. Joker could show him a way out but for the moment this is all fine by him. Joker’s been to much worse places and this is nothing of the likes of them. This is where his Dedsy is and that’s all Joker needs right now.

Floyd carries Joker to the twin bed that resides next to the windows opening to the rainy street below. The shades are drawn slightly open and the flickering light from the lampposts filters in through them painting Joker’s body with streaks of yellow in the dark.

Floyd sheds his armour and carefully sits down next to Joker on the bed only in his pants and undershirt. He takes a look at Joker’s condition once more with eyes betraying grief behind them. Joker merely regards him back with an almost unseeing gaze. He’s too strung-out to make things any better for Floyd to endure.

The man knows how to take initiative though, as always, and delicately begins to peel off the dirty white clothes from his bruised up body. Joker’s still got his bat sweater on him which Floyd considers for a moment when he gets to them hem of it but the strange glance on the black bat on the front of it lingers just for a second before he continues taking it off. Joker helps him the best he can if only to make the job swifter but he also likes to drag the moment out and to keep Floyd’s hands on him for as long as possible.

“We should get you washed up and change those bandages”, Floyd says when he has Joker only in his dressings. It sounds like a good idea. Floyd wraps plastic film around the plaster on Joker’s wrist and takes off the old bandages. Carefully lifting him up from the bed, he takes him to the bathroom next where he lays him down to stand in the shower. Joker takes hold of the tile wall and after Floyd undresses the rest of his clothes, of his muscled shoulder for support trying not to put any weight on his injured left leg. 

Floyd holds him up gently and securely, making Joker feel safe and close to him. It’s just like the good old days back in the showers. Only this time the water pressure is decent enough and the temperature’s just right.

“Which soap do you want to use, I’ve got plain and this vanilla lavender shit that I got from somewhere at some point that I’ve never used”, Floyd asks Joker with amusement lacing his deep tone. Joker glances at the shower rack where the two shampoo bottles reside and grins at Floyd.

“Never used, huh? Then why’s it only half full?” Joker points out merrily. Floyd teases his nipple for that.

“It came like that”, he answers back to him, huskily to his ear. Joker can’t help but shudder from the sensation of Floyd’s lips so close to his neck and his breath on his ear with their wet bodies nearly touching completely under the gentle ripple of the water.

Floyd grabs the lavender soap because he knows that that’s obviously what Joker wants and he squeezes a generous amount of it to the palm of his hand which he uses to rub it into the silky wet green hair in front of him all the while keeping a firm hold around Joker’s waist to support him on the slippery floor. Joker lays his head against Floyd’s chest affectionately where it fits underneath Floyd’s chin perfectly. Floyd rubs the clown’s head longer than needed, threading his fingers through the soapy green locks with his fingers, just because he wants to, and because the soft purrs of pleasure coming out of his lover make his cock stand to attention.

Eventually though Floyd cradles Joker’s head from underneath his jaw, gently coaxing it to lift his head up in order to wash the soap out of his hair. Joker does so while closing his eyes and stretching his long pale neck out sensually for Floyd’s observation. It is mesmerizing to witness his one of a kind beauty and way of moving and breathing. It holds Floyd captive and ties his hand around that pure white neck in silent awe.

His mouth falls open as Floyd touches him and kisses him across the expanse of the naked skin of his shoulders and neck. Joker’s arms sneak behind Floyd’s back from underneath his arms and seem to hold on for dear life while Floyd’s hands wander into their usual hiding grounds they’ve missed so much during the time he was forced to be gone.

Joker is malleable and soft in his arms as he bends him into place and presses his back against the tiles. Legs securely around Floyd’s waist where they belong, Floyd tracks his fingers inside Joker carefully. Floyd doesn’t bother to tease, he doesn’t want to do that now when they are both so desperate and eager for each other already, but he isn’t rough or inattentive either. He pays mind to each and every sound he hears pass the clown’s lips and any twitch that runs through his lithe limbs. He needs to be as delicate as he possibly can be with him. He already hates himself too much over the fact of what happened.

Yes. Floyd knows what had happened to him: Joker having run into some new lowlifes in the showers who had made the biggest mistake of their lives.  Floyd can’t help but feel like it’s his fault. Hell, it must be his fault! He should have been there for Joker, protected him like he always should, and most of all, he should have made it clear to _everyone_ that what he had with Joker was special and exclusive. Floyd hadn’t the right to choose him – the clown had made the choice and the prestigious decision to allow Floyd to touch him.

Floyd should have been there but instead he had been stuck in a secret military aircraft sent on a mission that had him killing people with no faces to keep his head from getting blown up by the head of the operation. Floyd should have also been there when they put these bruises on his clown but instead he had been flying a hijacked aircraft himself and trying to keep order in a plane full of explosives and criminals. He should have been there all the time for Joker but he hadn’t.

While Joker’s fingers skimmed across the strong planes of his shoulder-blades, Floyd tried to comfort himself with the thought that at least he was there for him now. He had got him out like he had planned on the first time he had laid his eyes upon the clown’s enchanting green eyes. They were free and they were together.

Floyd had him. Finally and at least for now.  

Joker gasped when they melted together under the light rivulets of the water. Floyd holds him closer, breathing into his neck, smelling the lavender and vanilla on him and feeling the way his body smoothly moves against him and warmly around him. Floyd kisses him everywhere he can reach, slow and careful. Joker’s fingernails press into his skin, nearly breaking the skin. It’s earnest and exposing, very raw and truthful.

They find themselves reaching climax at the same time. It was like exhaling after holding one’s breath for too long. Breaking the still surface of water from below. Sudden and gentle at the same time. Simple.

Floyd washes the rest of Joker’s body as well as himself with the same soap after which he finds themselves some clean towels to dry off on. After carrying Joker back to the bed with the green eyes quietly watching his face, Floyd patches him back up the emergency kit he always keeps close by and stored in every place he ventures to, and unwraps the plastic from his wrist.

He tucks him underneath the thick enough blankets like he’s a little kid but something Floyd can’t help but to do when looking how cold the clown seems. It earns him an amused grin on Joker’s lips that are still too pale for comfort due to his ill condition and makes Floyd pat the covers down ever so tighter around him. Floyd will need to remind himself to get Joker some makeup, too, when he stocks up at the convenience market down the block the next day. He thinks he might just appreciate that even if it won’t be that great a quality.

When he gets beneath the covers, he finds himself quickly with an armful of clown by his side, snowy legs laid over his possessively in a seeking of warmth and closeness. Floyd only holds him closer on the lumpy bed that feels like heaven after months of sleeping in cement block of a prison cell, though it appeared Joker had it slightly different than he did. However, Floyd doesn’t reckon that sleeping on a padded floor feels much nicer than on his smelly thin mattress when it’s inside a cell of glass in utter exposure to everyone.

It must feel nice for the clown too, as he’s fast asleep before Floyd has even managed to close his eyes. He watches the first snowflakes falling down outside in the yellow street light and listens to Joker breathing beside him softly until sleep takes over him too and blankets his finally peaceful mind.

**Author's Note:**

> If you guys have any ideas for new shots of this couple, let me knooow. I think we need at least one more fic to tie this whole thing together be it sweet or bittersweet but either way. So, throw some headcanons at me @literallyabstract on tumblr or down in the comments to inspire me to write more :)


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